


Desperate and Drinking

by Schmuck_and_a_Half



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 01:44:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16714150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Schmuck_and_a_Half/pseuds/Schmuck_and_a_Half
Summary: The town thief, a loving drunkard, a kooky old man, and a "changeling". Whether it be the start to a "walk into a bar" joke or the group that just might save the lands they live in time and again, this band of morons and muck ups might just have what it takes to get through this all sober... mostly sober.





	1. A Rather Uneventful Prologue

Kennesho was a small town, little more than a village, that stood atop the tallest hill in a rolling sea of barren land. The last of the harvest that most of its inhabitants made their living on was being plucked as the Autumn months were making their presence known. As the last few farmers settled in for the evening and most houses were settling down, some would pass by the local tavern and take a peak through the windows before hurriedly going along their way. Some strangers had arrived earlier, and despite their current lack of action, almost every resident knew that their presence meant trouble.

Werm didn't particularly like how the day was going. It was raining, he had just gotten over a fever, he was stuck in some dingy little hick town, and now he had to sit in some low down tavern waiting for his friend to come and die. It certainly felt like one of those days where he just couldn't catch a break. He had been sitting in a creaking, poorly made wooden chair for about an hour now, and before that he had been standing around for two. He couldn't count how many times he had looked over to Dirge, the large half orc currently fraternizing with one of the barmaids, nor how many times he tried making eye contact with Freyj, the half elf who looked to be fighting to stay awake at the moment. Werm didn't even bother trying to look at any of the others, least of all Boss Erno, the Bugbear who was sipping from a pint of ale and looked deep in thought. He shook his head at how antsy he was getting. He was surrounded by some of the most dangerous people in his horde, and yet he still found himself anxious. Was he anxious to just hurry up and get this over with? Was he anxious that his friend would spot him before he fell? Or was it possible that he was anxious that something might just happen that could catch the lot of them off guard?

Werm had already studied the surroundings a fifth time just to try to find something to do. The place was lit by a few candles scattered about. The wood of the walls had cracks and holes decorating them in place of paint, and every so often Werm would try and see how many termites were scuttling around at once. So far the biggest total was twelve. There were two windows by the entrance, and two on each adjacent wall. The wall opposite the entrance was where the counter was, and it was where the liquor was held, and it was where two archers sat crouched out of view if anything crazy went down. On either side of the counter were doors leading to a backroom, where three more of Boss Erno's most impressive fighters sat, ready to deliver blows at a moment's notice. They sat back there with a town guard who had seemed to miss the message that Boss Erno was making use of the establishment. Well, the corpse of a town guard was sitting with them, at least.

Werm took a good look at the patrons who had bothered to stay despite the warnings given by Freyj. An old wizened looking human sat in a back corner, nursing a much larger flagon of liquor. A young couple, one a hobgoblin and one a kobold, sat at a table, making small talk and giving rather passive looks to the clearly armed company they were keeping. Finally, there was the barmaid and the bartender, both Aasimar and both looked oddly comfortable. The barmaid had no trouble flirting with a half orc carrying a battle axe in hand, and the bartender looked as though she saw this sort of thing every day, and seemed to be making small talk with the archers now and again, even lowering down some drinks to them discreetly at one point.

"Werm, come here."

Werm's head snapped towards the direction the voice came from, and he raced over to his boss's side immediately. "Yes sir?"

"Go make sure the archers are awake and that the fighters haven't gotten into any drinks in the back." Boss Erno ordered, swishing his drink dismissively. Werm knew Boss Erno was never one to disclose what he was feeling at any given moment, but he noticed that he seemed to be fidgeting more than normal.

Werm nodded and walked over to the counter. He nodded curtly to both Aasimar and to Dirge, who paid him no heed as he seemed fixated on the bosom of the barmaid while telling yet another exaggerated tale of his exploits in battle and an even more exaggerated tale of his exploits in bed. Without glancing around the counter, Werm muttered the name of one of the archers. "Mora." … "Mora?"

No response came. Werm's head twitched towards the counter, his eyes landing on the bartender, who seemed to be smiling a little wider than earlier. Werm chalked that up to Dirge's story, which had the barmaid giggling quite a bit. He spoke up a bit more. "Mora, you awake?" He tried leaning over to check on the two, and just saw two red cloaks covering the two. Werm went to knock on one of their heads when a bottle of ale fell from the counter and onto the floor with a _thud!_ Werm cursed in lesser bazeetu as he started making his way around the counter, giving an apology to the bartender as an afterthought. The bartender shrugged, simply getting the bottle from the floor and clinging it against the counter three times. "No harm done."

Right after she got done saying that, a slight ruckus could be heard from the back room. Almost everyone in the bar, save for the old man and Boss Erno, looked in the general direction of the doors. Werm stood at the ready, drawing his rapier and dagger and inching towards the door. He looked back quickly to see Dirge with an axe in each hand and Freyj with an arrow notched in her bow. Werm nodded to each of them and put both of his weapons in one hand as he used the other to slowly twist the knob of the door.

"Hello everyone, pleasure to see you all again!" A voice came from the other side of the room, and immediately all focus shifted around to where it came from. At the door stood a high elf, his fair skin clashing with his black robes shrouded most of his lithe body. He had his hood down, revealing long, braided raven colored hair and eyes that sparkled like cassiterite. He stood about 6 feet tall, though he slouched now in a relaxed stance, his gloved hands in the pockets of his outer robe. He sauntered up to where Boss Erno was sitting, his leather boots clicking on the floor. As he approached Erno, Freyj had an arrow pointed at the elf's eyes and Dirge started slowly making his way closer. Werm stayed where he was, but sheathed his rapier, ready to throw his dagger at a moment's notice.

"Kegu." Boss Erno greeted, his eyes staring up at the elf with no hint of emotion, his voice the same gravely monotone, and his body still and unmoving. Yet Werm knew what his boss was feeling. The days leading up to this meeting had been nothing but bitter words muttered by the bugbear about Kegu and his insolence and his failures.

"Hey Boss, sorry to keep you waiting." Kegu pulled himself a seat and sat across the table. "I would've never suspected so many bandits on the road these days, but that's just how it happens sometimes."

"How much progress have you made on the jobs I've given you?" Boss Erno asked.

Kegu's mouth twitched. He closed his eyes and tilted his head down, his smile closing as it turned into a stretched straight line before his face relaxed again. "I suppose I am boring you with boring details. Work has been good, I'm happy to say. That little gang you picked out pledged its allegiance, and on top of that, the captain of that militia that's been harassing us has decided to change his tune. I've managed to pick up quite an impressive crew in the last few days."

There was a pause as the two men stared each other down, Kegu occasionally breaking the stare to look around, and once or twice he made eye contact with Werm. When he saw the Tiefling holding the dagger by the door, Kegu gave him a quick wink.

"How did you manage this?" Boss Erno asked, his face still a blank slate but his voice giving away a slight bit of interest.

"Oh, I'll tell you over some fine whiskey. You know I was actually at this bar earlier today?" Kegu's grin widened a bit as he saw Boss Erno's eyes widen slightly. "Great stuff they've got here, imports straight from the mountains. It'll get even your stoutest dwarf drunk with just half a bottle. Hey Yuvonna, a round for everyone, save the Tiefling. I think he's probably had enough to drink." Kegu said casually.

"Werm, go get the men from the back." Boss Erno ordered, his eyes never leaving Kegu.

Before Werm could twist the knob, however, Kegu snapped his head over to the tiefling. "Werm, don't open that door." Werm didn't hesitate to twist the knob, opening the door only for a large body to fall directly on top of him. Werm tripped backwards, pushing the body off of him. He looked down to see his jacket was now smeared with blood. He quickly inspected the body, and recognized it as one of the fighters, and the other two also seemed to be dead, laying by the foot of the door. Werm turned back to see everyone looking over in his direction, Boss Erno's brow furrowed and his mouth twisted in a grimace, Kegu's mouth once again stretched in a slight frown as he shook his head disappointedly.

"I told him not to open it. Horse and Mule do tend to leave a mess." Kegu said, letting out a small sigh. "Werm, next time I tell you not to do something-"

Kegu was cut off as Dirge put himself behind the elf, putting the axe blade to his throat. Freyj now stood directly behind Boss Erno, who had one eyebrow cocked and a smug smile adorning his fuzzy face.

"Is that all you had planned? What were you hoping to accomplish by killing three mooks? I've got my people set up just outside this dung heap of a town just itching to help me tear your eyes out." Boss Erno stood up, dwarfing almost everyone in the room, standing at nearly 8 feet tall. He drew his sword from its scabbard, its hilt encrusted with diamonds and rubies. "I will not have my time wasted with paltry intimidation techniques."

Kegu didn't seem to notice the escalation in tension, or he was ignoring it. He merely kicked his feet up on the table. "Why would I bother intimidating you like that? If I wanted to intimidate you, I'd go for a more direct approach. Yuvonna, those rounds please."

Werm turned his attention to the bartender as she bent down to grab something. He saw her grab a bow and shove one of the archers, who slumped over and fell onto the ground. Werm thought about alerting the others to this, but instead decided to move the body to the back room so he could close the door. He knew the look on his friend's face all too well. A grin barely containing excitement and eyes that tried far too hard to remain casual and calm. He had seen it when they played cards and Kegu had a winning hand. As he dragged the body out, he heard a clicking noise come from the main room.

_WHACK_

Werm fell to the floor, his head throbbing as the last thing he heard was a command from Kegu.

"Leave the tiefling alive. He's still good to me."


	2. A Rather Unenjoyable Wakeup Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh hey, characters we'll actually be following for a few chapters... neat.

As the sun rose to cover the small city of Aburon, many woke to greet their average day... and get it over with as soon as possible. While many live with the enthusiasm to make every day their own, to take in what the world can give them, and to gather experiences to make the day feel fulfilled, few and fewer folk resided in the unfortunate collection of shoddily built dwellings and workplaces that made up Aburon. So devoid of any passion or care was the city that the entire area seemed to be in a near constant state of grey. The air that hung about filled the lungs of its inhabitants much the way coal fills a stocking or oil fills a barrel. The walls that surrounded the exterior were made of brick and mortar, muted in color and cracking and crumbling in a great many places.

The sun rose to cover the Southern district of the small city of Aburon, by and far the most depressing splotch of this already very unimpressive city. The buildings scattered about all looked to fall at the wind that came from the wings of a passing fly. They were made of wood going through stages of rot and compost and stone that threatened to crumble if one were to look at it the wrong way. The many littered streets that separated them all were horribly mismanaged, lumps of trash and upturned stone jutting out here and there. Worse than that, the people that lived in the Southern District often littered the streets as well. These people were of little mind and littler heart. They made their dealings in procuring anything they could get their hands on, usually through thievery and occasionally through worse means.

The sun rose to cover a small, wooden building in the Southern District of the small city of Aburon, quite possibly the single most pathetic excuse for a home seen in some great many mile around. The building was constructed some few hundreds of years ago, back when the city had a brighter glow surrounding it and the street it sat on held happier folk, and even during its construction it was deemed to be rather indistinct. Suffice to say it was a waste of wood, or so those who passed by would mutter. Now, as the building was near collapse, there'd be mutterings still from time to time that the old hovel ought to just collapse, and spare anybody the trouble of taking down the eye sore. Thankfully for its occupant, that's the most anyone ever did in terms of thinking of harming the building.

The sun rose to greet Nit. Her full name, Nitwit, was given to her not by a loving parent, nor was it bestowed upon her at birth. It was given to her by that of a man whom she would rather not think about. In fact, it wasn't the full title given to her, though to say the full name she was given would be to insult her, and most would advise against doing such a thing. Not just because it's impolite, but because it'd be insulting Nit, and one does not walk away from such an action unharmed, or at the very least not without losing quite a bit of coin from their pocket. In fact, most do not walk away from Nit without something unfortunate occurring. After all, fortune favors those who manage to avoid the most notorious thief in all of the Sodak Province.

Nit lay still as the sun crept over her sleeping form, crossing the worn and tattered blanket to scan her dirt-coated, blue hued skin. She slowly reached up to scratch her lengthy, frazzled hair as the sun finally reached her eyelids, causing her rather long face to scrunch up in annoyance. She finally awoke as she heard the morning crows sounding off their caws and squawks as an odd thumping sound occurred. She lazily got off the ground where she'd been resting, the old floorboards creaking under her weight. Even in the house's hay day, it was never really made with the intention to house a firbolg, especially one weighing almost three times the weight of the regular human. As she stood and stretched, she stifled a yawn as she heard the pounding sound come from the other side of her door. She leisurely put on a loose shirt and some baggy breeches, and made her way to the door, all the while muttering to herself in Jotun. "Pokker du bastard sonn."

She peaked through a crack at the top of the door, trying to get a good view of who it could be. There was nobody by the door, though she noticed that across the street a few children and teenagers seemed to be congregating, making use of their morning by throwing stones at her door. She scowled, recognizing one of them as the child of a fire genasi merchant she might have acquired some items from without his knowledge. Or at least, she assumed it was his child. There weren't an awful lot of gensai in the city. Honestly, there weren't many of most peoples in the city, save for dwarves and humans. She went to work precuring some of the items she left laying around the house before going back to the door. She waited for a moment where the group were no longer throwing rocks before she opened it.

"What in the various hells do you lot think you're doing?" She yelled at them, crossing her arms as she tried seeing if she could recognize any other ones. She quickly assessed many as the locals' kids, most of whom resided in the Southern district. However, there was one human that caught her eye. He looked to be in his late teens, nearly grown if Nit was remembering human life spans correctly. He looked to be better dressed than his companions, sporting silk and polished leather where the others just had wool cloth. She also noticed that he seemed to have an exquisite gold ring with a small emerald encrusted into it.

"I've heard you've been thieving from some of my friends here." The human said, striding confidently ahead of the group. His relaxed smile and squinted eyes conveyed a sense of arrogance Nit wasn't particularly fond of. "Flame says you've stolen his father's goods." He raised an arm and motioned to the teenage fire genasi.

"What's his name?" Nit asked.

"Flame." The human said.

"No, what's his da's name?" Nit asked, clarifying a bit more.

"Flame's?" The human responded.

"His father's name is Flames?" Nit asked, her bushy eyebrows furrowing.

"No, I-... Flame is this one." The human said, scowling while motioning to the fire genasi again, who looked confused as to why he was being mentioned so much.

"Alright, so what's his da's name?" Nit asked once more.

"You stole from him, you should know!" The human accused, growing more visibly irritated by the moment.

"It's not polite to accuse folk you don't know of things you've not seen them do. How should I know if I've ever even met him if I don't know who this boy's father is?" Nit asked, trying to appear innocent.

"This BOY is named Flame!"

"I thought you said that was his father's name?"

"NO! _His_ name is... Uh..." The human suddenly stopped and scratched his chin for a moment before turning to the fire genasi and whispering to him. The fire genasi whispered back, and the human appeared to be taking a while to comprehend what he just heard. Nit patiently waited, her previous annoyance now becoming amusement at the situation. Finally, the human turned to face her.

"It's Flame." The human said.

"What about him?" Nit asked.

"That's the name of the genasi you've been stealing from." The human answered flatly. He was rubbing his forehead with the hand that wore the ring, and Nit was able to get a better view of it. There seemed to be some sort of inscription on it, but she couldn't make it out from so far away.

"I thought you said I was stealing from his da?" Nit inquired, taking a small step forward, trying to distract from her approach by making more gestures with her arms.

"No, you're stealing from this Flame's dad. His dad's name is Flame." The human said, talking slowly as if he was going over a math problem.

"So I'm stealing from Flame's dad, Flame?" Nit asked, taking another small step forward.

"Yes! That! Yes!" The human shouted.

"So who are you?" Nit asked, almost within an arm's reach of the group. She saw some of the group take notice of her proximity, but she made a show of putting her hands in the pockets of her breeches, smiling good naturedly. Some of the more skittish looking members kept a wary stare, but the others seemed to relax slightly.

"I'm Flame's friend." The human said. Before he could continue to give his name, Nit felt the need to get more clarity.

"That Flame or Da Flame?" Nit asked with a cheeky grin sprouting on her face.

"I'M THIS FLA- NO! No, I refuse to continue along with this overly long conversation. I'm putting a stop to it this instant!" The human shouted, stomping his foot on the ground in a huff. Nit was a little sore at this statement, as she'd already had her next four or five pointless questions picked out. Still, she was close enough to get to work now.

"Oh what a coincidence, so am I." Nit said, pulling out a stolen smoke bomb from her pocket and throwing it on the ground. It flashed, blinding the group, and soon the alleyway entrance filled up with smoke. Nit nimbly went to work, delicately swiping this and that from the group with the grace normally attributed to the sliest of elven or halfling thieves and burglars. She had just gotten to the human when she saw the smoke was starting to disappear, and figured now was a good time to book it. She plucked the ring from his finger and quickly rushed down the street, putting as much distance as she could from her house.

As she felt confident enough she had escaped, she looked down at her loot. A few pieces of silver, some coppers, some trinkets here and there, and one golden ring with emeralds encrusted in it. She tried taking a closer look to see if she could make out what the ring said, but she couldn't decipher it. It looked to be written in common. While Nit could speak common just fine, reading it was an entirely different issue, though thankfully she could find someone to tell her what it said. She thought about how odd it would've looked for some passerby to see a near fully grown firbolg race away from a group of adolescents hardly half her size, but she knew that it would look worse if that same passerby were to see a firbolg physically beating some adolescents hardly half her size.

'Alright, now who to go to for this stuff... Markets are probably out of the question.' Nit continued to think about how she'd sell her new goods. The markets of Southern Aburon had long since stopped catering to Nit, as she was one of the more recognizable thieves, and the markets in Eastern Aburon weren't particularly keen on doing business with folks that weren't human, dwarves, or the occasional elf. The only other vendors were the travelling caravans that made the rounds within the greater Sodak province.

'Probably gonna have to wait for the caravan, then. Well, looks like I'm waiting a bit. In that case, might as well go to the ol' bar and empty these full pockets of mine a little bit. Let's go grab Pen and put today to good use.' Nit decided, smiling broadly as she made her way to her favorite place in the world to go socialize with her favorite person in the world.


End file.
